Who is the Traitor?
by Stephensmat
Summary: Another in the SpidermanShadow crossover series. The Shadow is Betrayed to his worst enemy, by his most trusted man! Can he escape? Will his partner figure it out?


Who Is The Traitor?

Chapter 1

Stephen Cranston/The Shadow sat in the Sanctum on an expensive leather couch, reading from a huge volume. The large thick book was full of hand written script, in a simple code that the man could read as easily and fluently as English.

Across from him was his friend and partner, Peter Parker/Spiderman. Parker was not sitting in a chair. Rather he was crouched at chair height, sticking to a wall, facing outward toward the octagonal shaped room. Peter also had a large volume, and was reading earnestly while sipping from a cup of coffee.

The volumes were private records as kept by the previous men to wear the mask of The Shadow. The mysteries and adventures, unknown to the world, except in whispers told in secret between criminals, until the myth of The Shadow had grown beyond any weapon The Shadow wielded in reality.

Peter Parker had only worn the mask of Spiderman for a few years, and so had little experience with the criminal element and deep investigation, and was interested in studying 70 years of investigations by The Shadow.

But they had been studying the Chronicles for hours and needed a break. Peter suggested lunch and Stephen agreed wholeheartedly. Sliding the books onto a large shelf, he hit a hidden panel and the wall slid into place the shelf became invisible.

Pressing his bright Fire Opal Girasol ring, Stephen gave a nod toward the staircase, and the two men headed out.

"You know," said Peter as they ascended to the surface, "as much of a genius as your grandfather, father and you were and are…"

"Uncle," Stephen interrupted.

"Sorry?"

"My grandfather and uncle were Shadows.  My father wasn't."  Stephen's mood turned a shade darker.

Peter knew that meant not to ask anything further.  So he returned to the conversation he'd been starting before details derailed it.  "Anyway, I'm just beginning to realise just how important the agents are to this whole process."

Somehow that comment seemed to make Stephen even darker.  "Tell me about it. They take as many risks, but never get mentioned. Sometimes I wonder why they do it so willingly."

"Maybe they're more afraid of you than crooks?"

That got a subtle smile.  "Probably. But in any case, they have saved us as often as we have them."

"Well, you save each other's lives enough times, I guess you tend to feel a strong sense of loyalty to each other."

"Which is why we all take it really hard when an agent dies…"

"…and maybe protecting each other is even part of why they do it. But my point is, all it would take is one rogue agent…" Peter left the thought unfinished.

"I know."  The darkness lifted slightly, and Stephen's next words were filled with confidence. "But I trust my agents."

The men left for The Cobalt Club, unaware of how those words would take an ironic twist in the next few days.

Chapter 2

Harry Vincent was usually calm under pressure.  When you were one of The Shadow's most trusted agents, you had to know how to stay calm in a crisis.

For the last few months, Vincent had been the undercover operative in the largest crime syndicate of New York. He had kept his ears open, listening for the planning of crimes, and sending that information along to The Shadow.

But today, instead of his usual position in the lower levels of the organisation, he had been ordered to come to the top floor of the building, where the syndicate was based. That made his very nervous because the entire top floor belonged to one man, the main target of all the police, vigilantes and even most crime lords. The one man that controlled most of the organised crime in the world, the one man that was virtually untouchable.

The Kingpin.

Entering the elevator, Vincent wondered what was going to happen.

***

"Is that him?" asked the large man in his customary white suit. The Kingpin was watching a surveillance camera feed from the elevator. 

"Yes, boss. His name is Harry Vincent." 

"I know that.  What I meant was, are we sure he is the one?"

"Yes, boss, it can't be anyone else. We've eliminated everyone else. A shame, really.  He has such sweet kids."

"Yes, he does…" The Kingpin's voice trailed off.  Something on the screen had caught his eye.  He reached over to another screen and played a tape.

The recording was a video of his enemy The Shadow battling some people of his enforcers.  Aggravating video, one he normally wouldn't watch any more than he had to, but there was a small detail he was looking for…

There it was.  He froze the tape.

The Shadow's arm was extended in a punch. His left fist was clenched and visible there was a large glowing opal ring perched on its third finger.

Kingpin spun back toward the first screen.

Vincent was nervously fingering a large opal ring on his left hand.

Kingpin smirked.  "Well. That settles that."

"Do we take him out?" asked the man to his left.

Kingpin considered, then gave a sinister smile. "No.  I have a much better idea…"

***

Vincent walked into the office, his hand in his pocket, holding the revolver hidden there. Behind the desk was The Kingpin. Gunmen, openly showing automatic weapons, flanked him on both sides.

"Ah, Vincent," said Kingpin. "Come in, have a seat."

He sat nervously.  Knowing that Kingpin would come to the point when he was ready, Vincent said nothing. He heard two more sets of footsteps come up behind him to stand only a few feet behind him, on either side of his chair.  Vincent could feel the stares of all the gunmen on him.

"Vincent, I'll come right to the point." said Kingpin cheerfully. "In the last couple of months, we have had several of our operations hampered and even shut down by a dangerous and foolish man. He calls himself The Shadow. He has partnered himself with an old familiar nemesis, Spiderman."  He waved dismissively.  "Spiderman is beneath my notice. The Shadow is clearly the brains behind their renegade operation. Spiderman is just the extra muscle."  He looked at Vincent again.  "Vincent, we would like to have The Shadow work for us. But if he continues to shut down our operations like this, then we will have a problem. He always seems to know what we are doing next. We have a mole."

Despite the slow, calm methodical way Kingpin spoke, Vincent felt his tension rise several degrees. Still he said nothing, but his adrenaline started to flow.

But the Kingpin was not finished. "Vincent, we have eliminated everyone in our operation who could be the leak, except for you. We have reached the conclusion that you are the leak. Do not bother to deny it, because the leaks started a few weeks after you joined us. Normally, I would dismiss such things as pure coincidence, were it not for your taste in jewelry."

Vincent tried to drop his left hand so it was not so obvious, so visible.

Kingpin noticed the gesture.  "Your ring--it matches the one that The Shadow wears. You work for him." It was not a question, merely a statement of fact. 

The tension was now thick in the room. The Kingpin seemed calm and cool as ice.  Vincent was beginning to feel hot, flush with both anger and fear.

Finally, Vincent snapped. He leaped to his feet and drew his revolver.

He did not see which of the men behind him hit him in the back of the head before the room went black.

***

When Vincent finally came to, he was shackled to the chair and disarmed.

Kingpin tsk-tsked him and gave him a pitying look.  "Vincent, we do not want to kill you. We want your help. The Shadow is a dangerous man; he's starting to believe his own publicity. He is putting himself ahead of his cause. That is a dangerous thing. Vincent, he is a vigilante that must be locked up for the good of everyone."

"What about you?" sneered Vincent. "You break laws before breakfast. The Shadow will get you one day."

"And then what?" returned the Kingpin. "He has broken countless laws to try to get me. And he has become famous for it. But what about you? You have done the more dangerous work. You will never get a mention. You will be forgotten. You have raised him to greatness, and get nothing in return. Where is he when you are here, shackled to a chair, surrounded by enemies."

"You will never turn me against him," laughed Vincent. "I am not going to be a double agent. And nothing you can do to me will change my mind."

"You are probably right," agreed Kingpin. "So we won't do anything to YOU."

On that cue, the large view screen behind Kingpin showed an image. It was obvious to Harry Vincent what the image was.

It was his wife and kids. Bound and blindfolded.

Vincent let out a strangled cry. He slumped in his chair and stared at the screen, trying to sob silently. And still that smoothly arrogant voice spoke.

"Vincent," said the persuasive voice of Kingpin. "We just want to convince The Shadow to back off. But to do that, we have to get in touch with him. But we cannot just do that. Because he is so hyped up on his own glory that he would not listen. He is a masked vigilante and is a very dangerous man, not just to us but also to innocent people and to himself. Look at what he has done to the criminal element in this city alone."

Vincent was only aware of the image on the screen and the voice of Kingpin. His Family. His Family. Where was The Shadow, why wasn't he here?

"The criminals in this town are paranoid now. They are getting more and more afraid of their own shadows. And when people like them get paranoid, people get killed. And if The Shadow would take a step back from himself, he would realise that. That is what we need to do. As I said before, we would like him to join us. But The Shadow would not be part of such a large team would he?"

His Family. The Kingpin's voice sounded so sure and persuasive.

"So if we can get The Shadow in our custody and show him what he is doing wrong, that he is actually endangering the innocents he claims to protect, then the people of this city would be much safer. The criminals of this town would relax and general safety would increase. In another time and place The Shadow would agree."

Why am I doing this? Why hasn't the Shadow taken care of this himself? Wondered Vincent. Why isn't he here? 

"And of course, it goes without saying that if you don't help us…we will kill your family."

On the screen a large hooded man stepped into view and held a knife to his youngest child's throat. The knife man turned to the camera, waiting for the order from Kingpin. The Kingpin turned to Vincent and raised an eyebrow inquiringly.

That was Vincent's breaking point.

"What do you want me to do?" sobbed Vincent.

Chapter 3

The Shadow prowled the streets, heading toward one of his drop boxes. The box was not one of the usual messenger boxes, but instead an actual meeting place. The office was registered in the name B. Jonas. There was no such person, but agents met The Shadow there to plan strategies and details.

The Shadow was a little confused by the message that Vincent sent him: Urgent. Must meet you ASAP. Jonas Office. Meet you there. Urgent. Come Alone.

The message gave no clue as to the reason behind the message, but it was clearly important. Harry Vincent didn't send superfluous messages.

The Shadow opened the door to the office and saw Harry sitting at a small table waiting for him. After exchanging the code words, The Shadow sat down.  **_"What is wrong, Vincent?"_**

"It's my family. They've been kidnapped."

The Shadow now understood the urgency. **_"Then we must do something at once."_**

Vincent winced at the instant offer of help and the implicit trust. For a moment he wavered in what he was about to do. But it was his family. "You already have. Forgive me."

The Shadow looked at him with confusion. But then he felt a burning in his leg. He shoved back his chair and looked down at the tiny round tear in his pants.

Harry drew his hand from under the table. In it was a hypodermic needle.

The Shadow's eyes grew wide. He understood what had happened immediately and ran for the door. Halfway there he stumbled. He weaved as if drunk and managed to reach the door. Staggering weakly down the hallway, his surroundings spun and blurred. On his knees now, his surroundings grew dark. He barely felt himself hit the floor.

***

Kingpin's smile grew wider as his men dragged in the cloaked man who had been troubling him so long. 

"Leave his mask on!" Kingpin yelled to his men as one of them reached for the red scarf covering the lower half of his captor's face. Despite the problems The Shadow had caused him, he had great respect for the masked man. Too much respect to unmask him while he was drugged unconscious. Besides, it was always good to let your opponent see your best treachery face to face.  "Throw him in the maximum security cell!"

Vincent walked in and marched straight over to Kingpin.  "All right!" he yelled. "I did what you wanted. Now free my family."

"Not yet," snapped Kingpin. "First of all, how do I know this is the REAL Shadow? We can only tell that when we see how our operations continue. Second, Spiderman is still out there and with you and your family free, you would go to him and blab everything, probably even launch a rescue."

"Let my family go!" hissed Vincent.

"Relax, Vincent." The calm smile on Kingpin's face was maddening. "Once we are done with the Shadow, you can all go free. Until then, you can stay with your family in the suites. You know about them."

Vincent did know about them. They were very plush comfortable suites like you would find at the finest 5-star hotels in Manhattan. Comfortable chairs, queen-sized beds, excellent food. Several floors in the HQ building were devoted to this use. But there was only one door out of each of the suites and they were always guarded. You were not exactly a prisoner, just the guest that was not allowed to leave.

The cell that the Shadow was being taken to, however, was completely different.   His room would be no Park Avenue suite.  More like a room-sized tomb. Stone walls, steel doors, armed guards, no windows, no lights, and no hope of escape.

Just as Vincent was starting to consider attacking the Kingpin, an armed guard came and took him by the arm, ready to escort him to the Suites. Vincent was already thinking of how to explain this to his wife.

"Vincent," said the Kingpin as he passed. "All you have done is protected your family by capturing a dangerous vigilante. You have maybe even kept paranoid criminals from massacring countless lives. You have saved society from destabilising. How many people can say that?"

"I don't know," said Vincent sadly. "But I think the last guy got 30 pieces of silver for the same job."

Chapter 4

The Shadow wasn't certain which was worse…the pain in his head, or the pain in his heart.

He'd come to a moment ago in the dark dungeon-like cell, the effects of the sedative leaving his mouth dry and his brain foggy.  The cool dampness of the concrete floor helped revive him and let him know immediately that this wasn't just a bad dream.

But, oh, how he wished it were.

Harry Vincent.  One of his best agents.  Fiercely loyal.  Conscientious to a fault.  So reliable, The Shadow had once considered trusting him with his deepest, most precious secret.

Harry Vincent.  His betrayer.

Why?  The question kept turning over and over again in his mind.  The Shadow knew how precious Vincent's family was to him; still, in a million years he'd never have suspected Vincent would sell him out to protect his family.  Agents understood that when The Shadow saved your life, your life belonged to him; The Shadow's mission came first, everything else came second.

But now, The Shadow had come second.  And second place meant death.

But he was still alive.  That meant whoever had engineered this set up wanted him to feel this horrible feeling of betrayal.  This sadist wanted to enjoy The Shadow's pain.  Which meant that he had to snap out of it, because The Shadow brought pleasure to no man.  He sat up and began to evaluate his situation.

"You're awake," an all-too-familiar voice commented.

The Shadow recognized the voice instantly, even through the tinny speakers hidden somewhere in the wall.  "**_Hello, Kingpin,_**" he replied sarcastically.  "**_Bored with your usual criminal games?  Kidnapping is a Federal offence, you know._**"  He got to his feet and began feeling the walls of the room.

"Ah, but who's going to report it?  You?  Or your friend Spiderman, perhaps?"  He snickered.  "Oh, and I noticed you patting yourself down when you came to.  If you're looking for those beautiful .45s of yours, they're right here in my office. Marvellous pieces, silver plated, pearl handle, immaculate condition. They'll make nice additions to my antique gun collection.  So of course, I couldn't leave them with you.  I hope you understand."

The Shadow moved to the center of the room, then let his eyes relax and started scanning the walls.  The room was dark--almost no light at all--but there had to be a camera somewhere.  Kingpin was too smart to build a prison with no surveillance tools to watch his caged animals.  And it would be easier to see if he wasn't concentrating on actually seeing something.

"If you're looking for an escape route, you'll be most disappointed.  There isn't one."

Well, that wasn't entirely true.  There was a small air vent, a barely discernable change in the texture of the wall. But it was far too small to escape through. There was a speaker cover in the ceiling.  And a smoked glass panel covering over a camera access port high up on the wall opposite the doorway, fronting a camera whose pinpoint red light was barely visible in the blackness of the room. There was a small cot, an unpadded sheet of steel, more like a workbench and too short to lie on—and would probably have been uncomfortable anyway. And of course, there was a door, but The Shadow was quite sure there were guards on the other side of it with orders to shoot to kill.

"What's the matter, Shadow?  Cat got your tongue?"

The Shadow laughed, low and sinister.  "**_You're slipping, Kingpin.  I'd have thought you'd have come up with some new taunt for me, not some tired cliché._**"

"Ah, but we're just getting started.  I reserve only the best for my most honored guests."  A chuckle.  "You're probably wondering why I haven't just killed you and unmasked you."

"**_The thought did cross my mind._**"

"I thought it might have.  Really, it's not that I'm not interested in who you are, though I'm certain you're probably simply some would-be cop who flunked out of the police academy and took up vigilantism to 'make a difference'.  But despite what I told your dear friend Harry…"

The Shadow couldn't help it.  He flinched at the sound of his loyal man's name being spoken by a hated enemy.

Apparently Kingpin saw the flinch and it made him laugh.  "Smarts when you realize someone you trust has betrayed that trust, doesn't it?"  Another chuckle.  "Anyway, despite what I told Vincent, I'm not really keeping you alive just to see if you're the REAL Shadow.  I'm waiting for your partner in vigilance to come to your rescue.  That way, I can unmask both of you at once and get the suspense over with.  Then, of course, I'll have you disposed of in such a way as to make sure the rest of the city knows your names, too.  Then your own families will be made to suffer as so many of my brothers in crime have."

The Shadow sat down in the center of the room, making sure he was away from any point at which someone could sneak up behind him, and faced the camera.  "**_So, what did you do to Vincent's family?  That IS how you got his cooperation, right?_**"

Another smirking laugh.  "If it would ease your mind to know your loyal man didn't sell you out for money or power, I'll more than happily tell you that he chose his beautiful wife and adorable children over your masked mug.  You need to work on engendering loyalty in your employees, Shadow.  It was really too easy to convince poor Vincent to stick a needle in your thigh as part of his civic duty."

Well, that answered one question.  "**_And of course, you have no intention of actually letting any of us live, I take it?_**"

"I knew you were the brains of the outfit.  No, I don't need a man in my employ that could be so easily swayed.  Someone else might come along and do the same thing, and I can't have that, now, can I?"

"**_So you're really just waiting for Spiderman to complete this happy little picture._**"

"Oh, yes.  And I'll even let you two see each other one last time for one last goodbye."

"**_How kind._**"

"I thought you'd like it.  Then, you, Spiderman, Vincent, and his beautiful family will all be gotten rid of once and for all."  He chuckled.  "But don't worry.  I'll keep you company while we wait."

"**_Conversation bores me._**"

"Too bad.  Better make the best of it."

The Shadow was already considering his options; trying to form a plan out of the slim facts Kingpin had given him.  "**_Oh, don't worry.  I intend to._**"

"That's good. I'd hate to think you were holding yourself back. Hungry?"

**_"Yes, as a matter of fact, but I doubt you'll order me a pizza."_**

"Well, I might have if you had asked for one. Politely of course."

**_"Of course."_**

"But, you know, it would be bad for you to sleep just after a meal. It's bad for digestion. You should sleep first."

The Shadow was about to remark that he wasn't tired, when a loud hiss came through the small air vent and a sharp acrid smell burned in his nostrils.  The Shadow collapsed into unconsciousness again. 

Chapter 5

"Damn you, Stephen," Peter Parker muttered not for the first time that day.

For all the work they'd done together over the past couple of years, for all the secrets they'd shared, for all the time they'd spent together as both crimefighters and friends, there were still parts of Stephen Cranston's life that were maddeningly private, things that Stephen insisted on doing alone.  Such was clearly the case today, when Stephen had missed a scheduled racquetball game.  A quick call to the _Classic_ had revealed he wasn't working on a story and wasn't off in some staff meeting, so that meant he'd gone off to meet an agent somewhere.  But which agent and where?  There were enough agents in New York alone to populate a small city, and Peter's spider sense was tingling just enough to fuel his suspicions that this meeting hadn't gone quite as planned.  So that meant he had to find his partner.

But, as he was discovering, that wouldn't be easy.

He'd looked everywhere Stephen normally went when meeting agents:  The Cobalt Club.  NYU.  Police Headquarters.  B. Jonas' office.  Even peeked in the windows of Cranston Manor to see if he was having a drink with his uncle.  Nothing.  Shrevnitz denied picking up The Shadow that afternoon at all, saying he'd been overwhelmed with fares, so if The Shadow went anywhere, he took some other form of transportation.  A message to Burbank had been fruitless; Burbank embodied the overriding rule that no agent ever spoke of The Shadow to any other.  Burbank, through whom all messages went, would not even acknowledge that Peter's message saying, in essence, "I need to speak to the boss now--where is he?" was even received.  Waiting for an answer would be pointless.

So he'd decided on another approach.  He sent another message, this time a request:  "Agent at the _Classic_ needs to speak to agent Vincent ASAP."  If anybody could find The Shadow, it was Harry Vincent, and at least this time Peter felt his message would get through to somebody who could help him.  So now he was biding his time in front of the _Classic_, waiting for someone, anyone, to get back to him.

A bicycle messenger coming up the street behind him rang his bell.

Peter discreetly stuck out his left hand, fire opal ring showing.

The messenger handed off the cream-colored envelope as if it were a relay torch and sped away into traffic.

Peter stepped into a dark alley and opened the envelope.

The invisible writing slowly brightened into readable words:  "Agent Vincent occupied.  Further details unavailable."

Peter felt his nerves tingle again.  Vincent occupied?  That never happened.  Harry Vincent was the prototype for the "anywhere, anytime, for any reason" Shadow agent; he was never too busy to help another agent…unless he were occupied with The Shadow himself.  And Vincent worked for Kingpin.  That combination was bad news.

Peter crossed the street to Moe Shrevnitz's waiting cab and ordered him to head across town, to Kingpin's criminal corporate tower.  He hoped he wasn't giving the order too late.

***

"Why are they still holding us here?" Beth Vincent cried.

Vincent tried to hold his calm as his impatient, frightened kids were now uncharacteristically fighting each other to see who would get to cling to Daddy the tightest.  But his wife's question nagged at him.  Why would they still be holding them?  Surely it couldn't really be to find out if The Shadow was for real, but if Kingpin were going to kill them, he'd have done it by now…right?  "I don't know," he finally whispered.

"Harry, what have you done?" Beth demanded.  "Why would somebody barge into our house, grab us with chloroform rags, and drag us here?  Why were we tied up?  Why did that man put a knife to our son's throat?  What is going on here?"

"Beth, I swear I didn't know they were going to do this."  He once more tried to separate his kids, to keep them from fighting each other.  The kids weren't acting right, but then fear could do a lot to change people's personalities.  "I've…well…" He couldn't think of the words.  Why was he even still protecting the secrets of his two missions?  Kingpin was a first-class thug, The Shadow was a vigilante who'd saved his life so many years ago that it all seemed a blur, and his wife and children were kidnapped and threatened with death all because those two worlds collided.  Why conceal any of that?  He began to realize that they weren't going to be allowed to live.  "My boss is involved with some…well…questionable activities."

"He's a crook and a thug," Beth spat.  "I've read about him.  He shouldn't even be allowed to live.  In a sane world, he'd have been sent to the chair for what he's done."

Vincent was taken aback by his wife's outburst.  That wasn't like Beth at all.  But as he considered her words, for a moment he wasn't sure which boss she meant.  If she knew how much the description could apply to both men, she wouldn't believe it.  "I…I know.  He asked me to do something.  I wouldn't do it.  It was wrong.  It would cost someone their life.  But then, he told me if I didn't do it, he would kill you and the kids."  He looked away.  "And I couldn't let that happen.  I had to do what he asked."

"What did you do?"

He still couldn't make himself say it.  It hurt to even think it.  "I betrayed a trust."

She sat silent for a long moment.  "For me.  For the kids."

He was choked on his emotions now.  "Yes."

"So you betrayed someone else's trust to save us."

He nodded.

Beth got up and walked around, shooing the kids into another room of the suite so that she could be alone with her husband.  Then, she leaned against the wall and looked at him.  "I'm flattered, Harry.  Really, I am.  But that's not like you.  You never betray anyone.  In all the years I've known you, I've known you kept secrets, and I've accepted that.  Why would you choose to betray one now?"

"To save my family."  He threw up his hands and paced around the opposite side of the room.  "Don't you think I know what I've done?  I hate this.  I wish it had never happened."

"Would you do it again?"

He looked over at her.  "What kind of a question is that?"

"The only one that really matters right now.  Would you do it again if this hadn't happened?  Say this was all a nightmare, and you woke up right now.  Would you do this again?  Would you make the same decisions?  Choose the same person?  Feel the same way?  Would you be a traitor again?"

He looked at her aghast that she would even ask the question.  "To save you and the kids?  Of course I would."

She now looked as if she were about to cry.  "I'm glad you're so sure.  Really, I am.  Because I'm not sure I would."  She left the room to tend to the kids.

Vincent felt as if he'd been punched in the gut.  He slumped onto the suite's small sofa, now completely certain he'd made the wrong decision.

***

Beth walked right past the kids, into the private bathroom, and shut the door behind her. She stood and stared at the wall, wondering what to do next. The kids did not even notice; they had discovered the mini-bar full of chocolate samplers. Which was good, because Beth needed time to think.  Foremost in her mind was how to protect her family.

Their captor wasn't going to let them leave alive.  Beth knew it.  She knew it as soon as she caught the glimpse of Kingpin's men dragging a black-cloaked man from the back of a cargo van.  It was just a brief glimpse, but it was enough.  Harry's reluctant confession had given her the rest of the story.  They were all just pawns in a high-stakes game of chess, and the endgame was just a few moves away.

Worst of all, even if they weren't going to die, Beth's trust in her husband had been shattered.  Beth understood better than most people how important it was to keep a trust. She had learnt only a few weeks ago what real trust meant. What it cost when a secret was revealed and a sacred trust broken. Alone in the room, she drew from her pocket the reason she knew the importance of a secret, and the reason she knew what had happened, who had been betrayed.

That reason was a gold chain.

And hanging on it, a Girasol ring.

Chapter 6

Spiderman was almost at the Kingpin's tower. If nothing was going on, this was going to be a really stupid move. But his instincts and his Spider-sense told him that all was not right. Still, he decided to play it safe for now.

Moe had parked just 2 blocks away and Spiderman was swinging the rest of the way. The tower loomed in his sights and he swung around it. The windows were tinted but the sun had set and the light from inside the building made most of the rooms visible.

Swinging around the building for the third time, Spiderman was about to give up and leave. The building was quiet. But then he saw something in one of the windows. A familiar face. He swung closer to the building to make sure. But he was right the first time.

Harry Vincent. And the look on his face was not a happy one.

Spiderman was about to swing over to the wall itself when his Spider-sense screamed. An instant later he felt a sharp prick in his shoulder. Swinging away from the building, he looked over at his shoulder.

A tranquilizer dart.

He yanked the dart out of his shoulder, but a glance at it showed it had already dispensed half its medicine.  And his Spider sense was still screaming.  He looked around frantically.

On the street, the doors to the Kingpin's tower opened and a flood of thugs poured out and started watching the skies. Quickly spotting Spiderman, they ran down the street after him.

Fighting his increasingly jumbled thoughts, he started swinging for Moe's cab. His movements were becoming slower but his objective wasn't far away. Suddenly he missed a web shot and dropped like a stone into a dumpster. Even his Spider-Sense was becoming confused.

Struggling out of the dumpster, he managed to get a line across to the dark alley where the cab was parked.  He swung in what his hazy mind thought was the right direction, and was gratified to see an open sunroof just below him.

He scared Moe half to death, but managed to mumble the order to get away.

The car screeched away, in typical Shrevvy fashion, while the pursuing gunmen fired frantically at the fleeing cab.

Spiderman's last thoughts before he dropped into sleep were that they had known he was coming, his partner was missing, and Harry was not looking happy. He passed out before his jumbled brain could put those things together. 

***

"I don't like this, boss."

Kingpin turned to the man making the observation. "Why?"

"He just gives me the creeps. We should have put a bullet in his skull when we had the chance."

Kingpin considered this. The mocking laugh he had heard during their last chat had given him a few chills too. "Perhaps. But victory over your nemesis is not nearly as satisfying unless you humble and break him first. Now we start to blur the lines. Try to break his grip on reality."  He looked back at his viewscreen and smiled.

The Shadow was now sitting up and looking around again.  Time to play mind games.

***

The Shadow was getting tired of this.  The sedatives were making him nauseous, but he couldn't let that show.  His mouth was cottony and his head ached, probably from the dehydration caused by the drugs. And his internal clock was all out of whack.  He didn't even know how long he had been down here. Was it the next morning? Was it even daytime?

"Good Morning," said The Kingpin.

That answered that. **_"Really Kingpin, if you want to talk to me, it would be easier if you'd actually let me talk."_**

"I thought conversation bores you."

The Shadow did not answer. He was working on escape plans. A thousand ideas flew through his mind and he cast them all aside just as quickly. **_"So since I'm still alive, I assume Spiderman has evaded you?"_**

"So far," admitted Kingpin. "But it's only a matter of time.  We almost nabbed him a few hours ago. But he escaped in a cab. So it appears Harry isn't your only subservient little lap dog."

The Shadow flinched at Vincent's name again but did not reply to the subtle question.

"Just how many people DO you have working for you, anyway?  Are you just another underworld crime boss who plays at being good?  What's your recruitment plan?"

The Shadow had about a dozen sarcastic retorts, but settled on a sinister laugh and a simpler explanation.  "**_It's the benefits package._**"

"I'll bet you offer stock options, too."  He pondered for a moment.  "You know, when you became more interesting and important to me than a bug on the street, I did an extensive amount of research on you. There are subtle mentions of you in some papers going back 70 years!"

"**_Really?  Were they good reviews?  I always hate bad reviews._**"

"70 years.  Maybe even a little further."  The Shadow could hear keys being tapped on a keyboard.  "There are mentions of a 'mysterious black-cloaked figure' in one newspaper story from late 1927.  That wouldn't be you, would it?  You don't look that old to me."

"**_I'm well-preserved._**"

"You must be."  More key tapping.  "Strange pattern of activity.  Busy for about 30 years, then quiet for a few, then busy again for about 30 years, then quiet again, then about five years ago, you resurfaced with more venom than ever.  Very generational pattern.  Like father, like son, perhaps?"

"**_I take long naps._**"

"Where, in a cocoon?"

The Shadow laughed louder this time, the exposed part of his face showing a confident smile.  **_"You'd really like to know the secret of my immortality, wouldn't you?"_**

"Indeed.  If you could really pull off this immortality trick, I would definitely be interested.  I think we could do business if that were the case."  A pause. "But I doubt you are immortal."

**_"And what makes you so sure?"_**

"Your methods. If you were immortal, you would not care about being sneaky and constantly disappearing. Annoying how you do that, but it tells me that you are concerned about keeping your skin intact. Probably why you get you obedient servants like Vincent to do the dangerous stuff. No, I think you are part of a secret fraternity, or maybe it's a family business, or you're somebody's protégé. The fact is, if you were omniscient and all powerful, like most crooks in town believe you are, you would not still be locked up in here."

**_"Are you sure about that?"_** The Shadow mocked. **_"Think about it. Really think hard. Go look up a few names. Dr Gerald Savette. Shark Meglo. Heinrich Zerndorff. Go ask them how they did when they thought they had me in a trap."_**

"Ah, but I think I have an advantage over them."

**_"What's that?"_**

"I had a fifth column. I must go now. After all, it's dinnertime."

The Shadow fell silent and said nothing more, realizing that the Kingpin was lying about the outside time to try and confuse him.  He decided to put questions about the time of day aside and return to thinking his way out of this mess.

***

The Kingpin left the mike turned off as he turned to his men. "So, tell me about this again.  Vincent didn't call The Shadow, he sent him a letter?"

"Well, yeah," one of the men replied.

"And he didn't drop it in a mailbox, but went downtown and stuck it in some old office's mailslot?"

"I know it sounds dumb, boss, but that's really what happened.  The office is marked 'B. Jonas'. We've searched the business records of this city from the harbor to the suburbs. There is no record of an office registered to 'B. Jonas' anywhere in town, much less an office in a Manhattan brownstone. So we broke into an adjacent office today and poked a hole through the wall to look inside this Jonas office. You won't believe this--in there is a pneumatic tube, the kind you find in huge office buildings to send messages to different floors in a hurry."

"A private message system. Impressive."  Kingpin gave a glance back at the screen showing his prisoner. "Did you find where the tube went?"

The men shook their heads.  "It goes in and out of building radiator pipes, water pipes, air ducts, you name it, that pipe probably goes through it. We lost track of it."

"No matter." The Kingpin had an idea. "Find a junction point on this network near here.  Attach a separate tube and bring it here. The Shadow already knows where this place is, so we don't have to worry about it being traced." He was silent for a moment, then turned back to his man. "Do you think you could get a REALLY powerful bomb to fit inside a pneumatic message tube?"

Chapter 7 

Harry Vincent had had enough. He was going to get out of here. He was going to free his boss. If he was going to be punished for what he had done, then so be it.

The only question now, was how.

He had been turning that thought over in his head for the entire day, since the Kingpin's men had moved him into a separate suite from the rest of his family. He wasn't sure why he'd been moved away from them.  He wasn't even sure if they were still alive. Looking out the window for the third time, he asked himself the question again: HOW?

***

Peter had been watching the Tower for almost 24 hours since his first reconnaissance. He was well hidden, and had not been approached. Besides, rumours about the Kingpin and his operation had been going around for years, so a reporter or two carrying out discreet surveillance was not uncommon.  He'd had to avoid a group of repairmen working on what was apparently a plexiglass exterior conduit, but other than that the vigil was quite uneventful.

In that time, only one thing had been noticeable. Harry Vincent.  He'd moved since Spiderman saw him first earlier, but since then he'd been always on the same floor, staring out the same window. The Kingpin must have captured them both while they were on some mission together, and Vincent had been moved when he'd presumably been seen on Spiderman's last rescue mission.

Whatever had happened, he had to get them out. Since he could not find the room his partner was being kept in, he would start by freeing Vincent. 

Or more accurately, Spiderman would.

Late that night, Spiderman was hunched on top of the skyscraper across from the Tower. They had been waiting for him last time; this time, he would have to be quick. Very quick.

Springing into action, Spiderman hurled himself toward the Tower and started swinging as fast as he could.

***

Vincent had stepped away from the window, trying to figure out what to do next, when something came smashing through the glass.  He ducked, then looked toward the now-missing window.

Spiderman landed hard and came up, ready to fight. The only person in the room however, was Harry Vincent.

"Spiderman!" shouted Vincent. "Are you O.K.?"

At that moment, the door to his suite opened and the 2 guards, alerted by the sound of smashing glass, had come in, guns drawn. But no sooner had they entered the room, than a hail of webbing glued them to the wall. 

The fight over, Spiderman turned to Vincent. "Where is The Shadow?"

Harry did not answer straight away. "5 levels downstairs. Probably."

Spiderman noticed the hesitation but attributed it to unease about running into Kingpin's guards.  "What's the best way downstairs?"

Vincent tried to focus on something other than the gnawing guilt he felt.  "There's a stairwell at this end of the hall that bypasses the main floor and goes straight to ground level.  It's used as a fire escape.  It's our best shot."

Spiderman handed Vincent one of the guard's weapons. "Let's go get him."

Vincent hesitated again.  "My wife and kids are in a suite down the hall."

Now Spiderman understood Vincent's uneasiness.  He hadn't even realized Vincent was married, but that would certainly explain the uncertainty in his expression.  Every second they delayed was a second he couldn't afford to give away, but if it would make it easier to get Vincent to concentrate on the mission, he needed to find and free the man's family.  "Lead the way."

Chapter 8

Beth Vincent heard the shooting and gasped.  The endgame was being played, and it was apparently going to be violent.  "H.J., Jennifer, come here," she urged.

Both kids clung tightly to her.  "Mama?" her daughter asked.  "What's going on?"

"I don't know, honey."  She tried to think. "Go into the bathroom.  Get down in the tub.   Pull the curtain closed.  And keep quiet."

"Come on, Jen," H.J. said, grabbing his sister's hand.

Beth quickly closed the door behind her kids and looked around.  She found the mini-bar and opened it.

No glass bottles.  "Figures," she grumbled, then looked around again.

The hard plastic ice bucket caught her eye.  She threw it to the floor and jumped on it until it split, then stomped on the pieces repeatedly until a hard, pointed shard broke off.  It was a crude weapon, but it would work.  She picked it up and pressed herself into a corner, hiding behind the room's blackout curtains.

The door to the room burst open, and two armed men were now inside.  "Find them," one ordered the other.

Beth peered through the curtains and watched them creep closer.  She readied her makeshift knife.

One of the men poked his weapon under the curtain and slowly pulled it back.

Beth stabbed the pointed plastic into his wrist with as much force as she could muster.

The man screamed and dropped his weapon.

His partner turned and aimed right at Beth.

Gunfire rang out from behind, and the man dropped to the floor.

Beth looked toward the hallway.

Harry Vincent, his gun still pointed right where the second man had been standing, looked back at her.

Beth wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not.

He understood her hesitation.  "You O.K.?"

She nodded.

"Kids?"

She decided to trust him.  He was, after all, still her husband.  "In the bathroom."

He started for the bathroom door.

The man with the injured wrist reached for his gun again.

A net-like web suddenly wrapped itself around him and pinned him to the floor.

"Hey—what's going on here?" the man called out.

"Shut up," Spiderman snapped, shooting another web over the thug's mouth.

Beth looked up at the doorway…then up at the ceiling.

Spiderman's eyes widened in recognition of the woman before him.  "Beth?"

Vincent looked from one to the other.  How did Spiderman recognize his wife?  He'd never even told the web-slinger he was married.  "What's going on here?"

Spiderman looked at Vincent.  "You don't know?"

"No, he doesn't," Beth interjected.

"Know?"  Vincent was completely confused.  "Know what?"

Spiderman shook his head.  "You two need to work on your spousal communication skills.  Where are the kids?"

Beth went for the bathroom door and knocked.  "Kids?  It's Mama.  Come out."

The door opened.  The children spotted their father, then his gun.  His daughter screamed.

Beth hurriedly put a hand over her daughter's mouth.  "Sh-h.  It's O.K.  We've got to get out of here."

Her son spotted Spiderman hanging from the ceiling behind his dad.  "Whoa.  Spiderman!"

"Hey, you're pretty smart, kid," Spiderman wisecracked.  Then, he gestured at the webbed man on the floor.  "Get his gun and let's get out of here."

Beth picked up the gun, then herded her kids out the door.  "Which way?"

Vincent went back into the room and pulled a key ring off the dead thug's belt, then handed it to his wife and pointed to the opposite end of the hall.  "There's a service elevator there.  Big brass key opens it.  Take it and get out of here."

She nodded.  "Be careful."

"I will."

They kissed briefly, then Beth took her daughter's hand, her daughter took her son's hand, and the three of them hurried down the hall.

Spiderman poked Vincent in the shoulder to stop him from staring.  "Hey.  Let's go."

Vincent, unsure how he would be received by The Shadow, but finally feeling like he knew what he had to do, and determination flooding his veins, nodded to Spiderman and led the way to the stairs.

***

Unaware that his partner was five floors above him, The Shadow was coming up with his own escape plan.  He was exhausted from yet another dose of sleeping gas, and while he was practically starving, he was certain the tray of food some lackey had brought for him while he was unconscious—turkey sandwich on stale rye, small cup of cloudy water—was probably tainted with yet more knockout drugs.  He had to focus on getting out of there.  At this point, his own wits were the only thing he truly trusted.

"Not hungry?" Kingpin observed.

"**_Turkey makes me sleepy._**"

"It's all the tryptophan.  Supposed to be good for you.  Really, you're such an ungrateful guest.  Relax.  Make yourself comfortable."

**_"Would you mind if I took my boots off?"_**

"Sure," said Kingpin graciously. "As long as you can put up with your own stench."

**_"Well,"_** said The Shadow, in a faux offended tone as he took off his left boot, **_"if you're going to be rude, I think I'll be leaving."_**

****

"Be my guest."

A mocking laugh filled the room, and The Shadow vanished.

***

The Kingpin drew back from the screen in surprise. The camera's lens had seemingly fogged over.  "What the Hell…"

"He's thrown something onto the glass.  Probably the water on the tray."  The video technician leaned forward and flipped a small switch.

The screen turned green, the fogging cleared, and the glowing form of a man in a slouch hat and cloak putting his left boot back on became easily visible.

Kingpin snickered.  The Shadow wasn't quite as clever as perhaps the man thought he was.  "For a moment, I thought you'd done that little disappearing trick you do. Too bad my camera also has night vision."

**_"You like that one, huh?"_** said the glowing form of light on the screen. **_"Well, now for my next trick…"_** The laugh turned triumphant and The Shadow held up one hand. In it were two disks, each about twice the size of a large coin.

Kingpin watched as he tossed one up toward the camera.

The screen suddenly displayed a flash of unbearable light and exploded. Kingpin gave a yelp of sudden pain and shut his eyes, too late to keep from being blinded.

"Boss!" the video technician called out.  "You all right?"

Kingpin couldn't answer.  He was seeing spots, and his eyes hurt from the sudden burst of phosphorescent dust and glass.

The technician began trying to get the picture back on another display.  "The camera's out!" the man declared.  "What the Hell was that?"

"A flash disk," Kingpin realized.  "A simple magician's prop.  And it overloaded the display."

"Well, whatever it was, it fried the camera, too.  We're flying blind down there."

"Sir, there's been a disturbance in the suites," another man reported.

Kingpin still couldn't open his eyes, but now he couldn't believe his ears.  "What?"

"Vincent's suite has been breeched.  And his guards don't answer their radios."

Kingpin forced his eyes to open and found the intercom switch.  "I want extra guards down in the holding area now!" he ordered.  "And get someone into the suites and find Vincent!"

"Yes, sir," a voice replied.

For the first time, Kingpin wondered if he was wrong in not killing The Shadow when he had the chance.

Chapter 9

Shielding his face and screwing his eyes shut against the flash of the small magnesium charge, The Shadow ducked and was delighted to hear the satisfying sound of the camera's light regulator shorting out.  Flash disks and smoke bombs were some of his grandfather's best optical illusion tricks, taught well to one son, and later passed down to an eager-to-learn nephew.  Intellectual immortality at its finest.

When the flaring light died down, The Shadow pocketed the remaining disk and whirled into action, taking advantage of the few minutes the burst of light had given him.  He dragged the steel cot into the far corner of the room and turned it on its side so that it formed a triangular barrier against the corner.

Now for another of his grandfather's tricks.  He shrugged off his cloak and ripped open the threads of the bottom hem.

A black powder came pouring out.

He used his foot to force as much of it as he could against and under the door, then ripped another hem open on his cloak.

A white powder came pouring out.

Hurling his cloak against the door, he raced to the far corner of the room and braced himself behind the cot.

As the white and dark powder mixed, it started to make slight hissing noises.

Seconds later, there was a massive explosion.  Smoke filled the room.

The Shadow moved slowly, holding his red scarf hard against his face, using it as a filter for the fumes caused by the chemical reaction, and made his way to the doorway.  His eyes hurt from the bright light after hours of darkness, but he adjusted quickly and surveyed the situation.

Lying on the floor in the hallway were half a dozen guards either knocked out by the concussion or retching from the fumes.

Laughing maniacally his triumphant laugh, The Shadow rose out of the smoke like a spectre of death.

One of Kingpin's men took shaky aim.

The Shadow backhanded the weapon away, then kicked the man in the head.

The man joined his compatriots in unconsciousness.

The Shadow spotted a bulge in the man's shirt pocket that looked as promising a weapon as the selection of automatics Kingpin's thugs carried.  He reached into the pocket.

His fingers found cigarettes and a book of matches.  Jackpot.  He lit one of the matches and tossed it back into his cell, atop his now smoldering cloak.

What was left of the chemicals in the cloak burst into flame, and more smoke filled the hallway.

Pocketing the rest of the matches, he took an automatic from one of the unconscious guards and moved swiftly down the hallway, swirling into the shadows.

***

Vincent heard the explosion in the stairwell.  "What the Hell was that?"

It was a good thing Spiderman was masked so that Vincent couldn't see the relieved smile on his face.  "The Shadow.  I think he got tired of waiting for us."

Vincent breathed a much more obvious sigh of relief.  "Thank God."

Spiderman would have to find out later why Vincent would be so reassured by that statement.  "Let's go find him."  He shot another web against the stairs above him and swung down to another landing, Vincent following close behind.

***

Never let it be said that Kingpin didn't take security seriously.

The Shadow was finding this out for himself as he was now pinned in a cross-corridor.  Kingpin's men had learned that bright lights revealed him, so they had powerful halogen flashlights mounted on their rifles. The few that did not have rifles used the light provided to search the far wall for the telltale streak of darkness that came from the turn in the hallway.

Well, if it was light the men wanted, The Shadow was going to give it to them. His arm flashed into the hallway.

Before the men could react, a small disk sliding toward them diverted their attention.

The Shadow covered his eyes again, and after a short sudden flash, turned and went down a hallway of blinded men, pausing for a few seconds to knock them out and take several automatic clips to reload his own weapon.

***

Not having any conscious guards to delay them, Spiderman and Harry made their way through the detention area quickly, following the trail of destruction from the cell down the hallway.

"Looks like they made him angry," observed Spiderman.

Harry wasn't sure he wanted to catch up to an angry Shadow, but the wall-crawler was already leaping to another wall and peeking around the corner, and he hurried to keep up.

Following the sounds of battle, they turned down another hallway in search of their friend.

Suddenly, a swirl of blackness was upon them.  An instant later, Vincent was against the wall, six inches above the floor, a gun under his chin.  He looked down.

The Shadow's dark, angry, hypnotic eyes stared venomously at his own personal Judas.

Vincent felt every ounce of bravery drain away.  He'd seen The Shadow give this look to criminals.  Now, as cold darkness engulfed him, he understood why they never failed to crumble.  "Boss…I had no choice…I'm sorry."

"Whoa man, what are you doing?" shouted Spiderman, quickly up the wall and over to where Vincent was being held, trying to get his partner to look him in the eye and hoping to save Vincent from eating lead.

**_"He doesn't know?"_** The Shadow asked Vincent, indicating Spiderman.

"No he doesn't," confirmed Vincent.

It was now obvious to Spiderman that Harry and Beth Vincent weren't the only ones who needed to work on partner communication skills.  "Know?  Know what?"

The Shadow didn't take his eyes off Vincent.  His voice took on that chilling edge of terror that brought hardened criminals to their knees.  "Spidey, Vincent and I have some things to discuss. Go find Harry's family and get them out of here."

Spiderman was beginning to realize that the two men hadn't been captured on a mission after all. "Already done. Beth's leading the kids to the exit."

"**_Is she armed?_**"

"Yeah."

"**_Good._**"

"Wait a minute—you know Beth?" said Vincent from the wall.

**_"He doesn't know?"_** The Shadow asked Spiderman, indicating Vincent.

"No he doesn't," confirmed Spiderman.

This was getting more confusing by the second.  "Know?"  Vincent was lost.  "Know what?"

Spiderman's spider sense suddenly went crazy.  "Move!" he shouted, already leaping for a distant spot on the ceiling.

A half-dozen of Kingpin's men burst around the corner, guns drawn.

The Shadow tossed Harry aside and opened fire.

Between spitting automatics and sticky webs, it was no contest.  Minutes later, six men were either dead or hopelessly stuck to the floor.

The Shadow turned his attention to Vincent once more.  He yanked him up off the floor and again stared daggers into the other man's eyes.

"I swear to God I didn't know it would turn out this way," Vincent pleaded.

"**_Liar!_**"  The Shadow put the gun to Vincent's head.

Spiderman clamped a hand onto The Shadow's shoulder, trying to drag him back to reality.  There was definitely more to this situation than he realized.  "Maybe we should finish this conversation somewhere else…like Kingpin's office."

The Shadow slowly got hold of himself, then nodded and dropped Harry, giving him a shove forward down the hall, then a poke in the back with the automatic.  "**_Take us to him.  And if you even THINK about turning that gun in your hands on me, I'll blow your head off.  Now, move._**"

Harry led the way to one of the tower's many elevators, The Shadow aiming a gun at his head the whole way.

Spiderman hung back to speak with his partner. "Are you O.K?"

The Shadow was burning holes into Harry. He was SO tempted to pull the trigger.  His voice was flat with barely contained rage. **_"Fine. Just fine."_**

Chapter 10

What a mess.

Kingpin wasn't pleased.  Somehow, that annoying web-head had made it through the phalanx of guards he'd posted around the building, found Harry Vincent, and then found his friend, the elusive Shadow.  Now, every time he looked at a display screen, there was a fresh scene of destruction.  "Get the package," he ordered one of his remaining flunkies.

The eager man scurried off.

Kingpin hit the intercom.  "Get my helicopter ready."

"Yes, sir," the voice on the other end replied.

Suddenly, the fire alarm sounded.  Kingpin jumped involuntarily.  "What was that?"

His flunky burst into the room.  "Fire in the corridor!  The alarms are going off everywhere!"

Kingpin noticed the cylinder in his arms.  "Give me that!" he demanded.  "And find out what's going on!"

 "Yes, sir!"  The flunky scurried away.

Kingpin grumbled his frustration as he examined the end of the cylinder.

A flash of light caught the corner of his eye.  "What the…"

His desk was now on fire.  He batted at the burning papers frantically.

As he did, another match landed on his suit.  He quickly swatted at his sleeve.

"**_What's the matter, Kingpin?  Can't stand the heat?_**"  A mocking laugh punctuated the statement.

Kingpin looked up and saw…nothing.

Another match flung itself at him as the darkness laughed.

He ducked, then hurriedly reached for the pearl-handled .45 he'd abducted earlier.  It would serve that would-be spectre right if he were dispatched to the great beyond with his own guns…

A sticky web jerked the twin holsters out of his hands.  "I'll take those," Spiderman offered from across the room.

Kingpin watched the guns swing through the air and a swirling blackness grab them out of the sky.

A second later, the swirl was solid, and The Shadow had both silver .45s trained right on Kingpin's chest.  "**_I don't let other people collect my things,_**" The Shadow growled.  "**_Or my people._**"

Kingpin waved dismissively and turned to Harry Vincent, standing off to the side, seemingly hoping not to be noticed.  "Well, don't just stand there, Vincent.  Finish what you started.  Kill him."

That declaration seemed so outrageous to Spiderman that he found himself disbelieving the pieces beginning to come together in his mind.  He stared at Vincent.  "You didn't…"

Kingpin looked over at The Shadow.  "He doesn't know?"

"**_It doesn't matter!_**" The Shadow snapped, eager to head off yet another round of this conversation.  "**_Because I know who the real traitor is.  You were the one toying with your loyal man's life and family as if they were playthings.  You were the one who'd kill him now that he'd proven himself so disloyal.  You were the one who'll betray anyone anyway, anywhere, anyhow, any time.  That's what makes me better than you.  And that's why I'm going to have you arrested instead of ventilating your useless corpse._**"  He looked over at Spiderman.  "**_Tie the bastard up._**"

Spiderman started to oblige, then felt something coming up right behind him.  "Everybody down!" he shouted, diving for his partner.

The three intruders hit the deck just as a hail of bullets rang through the office.

Kingpin flicked several switches on the end of the cylinder in his hands, then shoved it into what looked like a plexiglass drain pipe and ran for a nearby closet.  "Farewell, fools!" he called.  "Stop me, save yourselves, or save your precious messaging network--your choice, Shadow!"

Spiderman sprang for the closet door, but it was already closed tight.  "Private elevator," he reported.  "Dammit!"  He turned his attention back to the soldiers rushing in and fired several webs to snare them and stop their progress.

Vincent emptied his automatic and mowed down the rest of them.

The Shadow ran to the pipe.  "**_Tell me that isn't…_**"

"Yeah, it is," Spiderman reported.  "I watched them build it.  Had no idea what it was until now.  That thing's heading right for Burbank."

The Shadow turned to Vincent.  "**_Get out of here and get a message to Burbank.  Use the emergency phone number.  Tell him to take cover._**"

Vincent was relieved that for the moment, at least, the question of what to do with him was set aside.  "Will do."  He ran for the exit.

The Shadow debated whether to remind Vincent that this wasn't a reprieve, then decided it wasn't necessary.  He turned to Spiderman.  "**_You know where that thing runs?_**"

Spiderman nodded, picked up Kingpin's office chair, and hurled it through the plate glass windows.  "Hop on," he said, already casting a web at a building across the way.

The Shadow jumped onto his partner's strong back, and they both swung out into the night.

Spiderman found the pipe quickly and swung to another building along its path.  "Can you see it?"

The Shadow watched the pipe vibrating, indicating something passing through.  "**_Left turn, dead ahead._**"

Spiderman shot out another line.  "Hang on…"

The two swung wide, barely missing an adjacent wall.

"**_Get ahead of it,_** The Shadow urged.

"How?"

The Shadow hurriedly traced a map of the pipe's path.  "**_There's a junction he's probably hooked into just ahead.  Up and over this building._**"

Spiderman let go of the line and leapt for the building.  With just his weight, it would have been a perfectly clean landing.  With the extra person onboard, he had to stretch out a little further than he would have liked to make sure he could get a purchase on the wall.

The Shadow noticed the rough landing.  "**_You O.K.?_**"

"Yeah.  Have I ever told you that you're a little heavy?"

"**_I'll diet later.  Over the building._**"

Spiderman scaled the walls, sprang over the outstretched corner of the roof, and was quickly on the other side.  Now he could see the pipe and the vibration heading toward the junction.  He shot a web and dropped down toward it.

The Shadow drew his left-hand automatic and fired shot after shot at the pneumatic tube.

Finally, it broke open.  Pressurized air screamed out of it.  The bomb slowed to a stop just before making a crucial turn into the main network.

"**_Get clear!_**" The Shadow ordered.

Spiderman dove for a nearby alley and hit the wall, sticking to it.

The Shadow lost his one-handed grip and toppled into a garbage dumpster.

Spiderman pounced on the dumpster and grabbed his partner's arm to get him out.

As he did, one of Kingpin's black cargo vans screeched to a halt right next to them.  Beth Vincent stuck her head out the driver's window.  "Get in!" she called.

No time to ask any questions.  Both men climbed in through the rear doors Harry Vincent had helpfully thrown open for them.

The Shadow and Vincent slammed the doors shut.  "**_Gun it, Beth!_**" The Shadow commanded.

Beth hit the gas and burned rubber out of the alley.

They barely got clear before the bomb behind them exploded with a thunderous roar.

For a moment, everyone sat quietly, relieved to be alive.

H.J. looked at the two newcomers in the back of the van.  "Hey, you're The Shadow!"

The Shadow gave both kids a knowing look.  "**_No, I'm not.  I'm just a dream.  This is all just a bad dream.  Which you won't remember when you wake up._**"

H.J. looked confused for a moment, then yawned.  Jennifer echoed his yawn.

Both kids were asleep seconds later.

Vincent was quite certain he wasn't going to get off that easily.  He looked nervously at The Shadow, then at his wife, then at The Shadow again.  "Where to?" he finally said aloud.

The Shadow took a calming breath.  "**_Beth, take your kids home.  I think they've earned a rest._**"

She nodded, and they were soon speeding toward the suburbs in silence.

Chapter 11

The silence was the worst.

Most criminals were unnerved, startled, even terrified by The Shadow's laugh.  But right now, nothing reached the level of terror Harry Vincent was feeling just watching The Shadow stand, back to him, eerily silent.  He wished The Shadow would just come out and start screaming.

But instead, the man in black had taken him to a high-rise office.  The room was empty except for the one uncomfortable chair Vincent was now sitting in.  The Shadow was staring out the one window, motionlessly watching the city like a figure carved from black marble.

Finally, Vincent could stand it no longer. "Boss…"

The Shadow looked at him with those burning black eyes, and Vincent realized that he had nothing to say, so he resumed staring at the floor.

Finally, The Shadow seemed finished contemplating the view. "**_I trusted you,_**" he said, and the words hit Vincent like a bullet.

"I know," Vincent whispered.

The cloaked figure seemed to slump.  For a moment, he almost looked vulnerable. **_"What am I supposed to do, Vincent? I can't just let this go."_**

Vincent knew he deserved whatever he got. "I understand."

The Shadow turned slowly around, an automatic in his gloved right hand.

Vincent closed his eyes and waited for the shot to come.

For a long moment, neither man moved.

Finally, the gun lowered until it pointed at the floor. _"**I won't kill you.  Not that you don't deserve it.  But I cannot kill the man I once called my friend.  And your children need a father.**"_ He holstered his weapon and crossed his arms as he leaned back against the wall.**_ "So, what do I do with you?"_**

Vincent held his breath as his fate was decided.

The Shadow gave it some consideration.  **_"Well, Beth is one of my agents, too. Joined us a couple of months ago.  She knows exactly what you did.  She will probably never trust a word out of your mouth again.  And I had Burbank send out a general dispatch.  Every agent now knows what you've done.  Add to that the fact that Kingpin's people know your name and face, they will probably be after you too. We've already confirmed that there are people watching your house.  Spiderman's taken Beth and your kids to a safe house."_** He paused, considering again, and came to a decision. **_"So as the old saying goes,  'you really can't go home again.'  So here's what's going to happen. One of our people at the Witness Protection Program is currently working on getting you and_** **_your family out of the country.  No, you don't get a choice in this.  Any reports or requests you make will go unanswered. For all intents and purposes, Harry Vincent will no longer exist. Every agent, once you are gone, will refuse to acknowledge your existence.  You are shunned."_**  To emphasise this, The Shadow took Harry's hand and pulled off the Girasol ring.

The pain of having his ring finger nearly pulled out of its socket was nothing compared to the pain driving into his heart.  Vincent felt his stomach sink.

The Shadow's eyes turned ice cold.  **_"Get out of my sight. Beth will tell you where to go next."_**

Harry counted himself lucky and got up to leave, when the voice of The Shadow stopped him.

"Vincent, you talk to anyone again…I will know.  And you will have to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder."

Vincent nodded and walked the walk of shame out the door.

***

Sunrise at New York's JFK International Airport meant an increase in the already bustling activity of travellers in and out of one of the world's largest cities.  Most of these people were total strangers to one another, ships passing in the night, brief encounters that would never happen again.  So why did Harry Vincent feel like every set of eyes he encountered were looking at him with disdain?

Vincent couldn't shake this feeling of being watched—no, being scorned—as he carried his bag through the airport terminal. Beth was behind him with the kids, giving him the same silent treatment here that he'd been getting at home.  He began to wonder as he reached the ticket counter if his wife would ever treat him civilly again. 

Behind the counter was another agent.  She recognized him, of course, and gave him a look that was reserved only for the most traitorous of scum.  Harry would not look her in the eye as he handed her his ticket. 

The woman gave Beth a sympathetic smile as she passed by after her husband.

The kids did not understand what the reason behind the move was, but they were looking forward to it as a grand adventure.  Which was probably just as well, because Vincent was beginning to realize that The Shadow's generous gift of a new life was really more like a curse.

***

It was the day after The Shadow had escaped and The Kingpin had returned to his office. Considerable damage had been done to the complex, but his office had come through it relatively undamaged, save for the broken window, some burned papers, and a few bullet holes. Kingpin had always loved this office and decided to stay there during the repairs.

When he had reached his desk, he found a note there waiting for him:

"You really do have an excellent antique weapons collection."

Stamped at the bottom was the profile of a man with a slouch hat.

Dropping the card and rushing down the hall to his trophy room, he marched straight past the various pelts and medals, heading straight for a large cabinet at the far wall of the room.  Unlocking the doors and throwing them open, he gasped as the empty racks and holders stared back at him.

His collection was gone and the case empty.

Well, not completely empty.  At the bottom of the case was another note:

"These should just about pay for Harry's plane ticket. Such a shame, they were such beautiful pieces. And thanks for taking such good care of my .45's."

Holding the card in his hand as he shouted with rage, the Kingpin failed to notice that the card cast the silhouette of a man with a hawk like countenance and a slouch hat. 

Chapter 12

Stephen Cranston was beyond exhausted.  The ordeal with Kingpin had ended not quite two days ago, but he'd been running non-stop during that time.  He'd made sure the Vincents were safely on a plane to Australia.  He'd transferred a large bankroll of cash to be waiting for them on their arrival, financed of course by Kingpin's magnificent antique weapons collection.  He'd met with agents to start the repairs of the section of the network damaged in the explosion, and worked with Burbank to have the B. Jonas office moved now that its use as a collection point was compromised.  Things were just about back to normal.  Now all he wanted was sleep.  He wandered into his apartment, tossed his jacket onto a chair, then rambled back to the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed.

"Ready to talk?"

Stephen sat bolt upright and his hand was reaching for the revolver he kept in his nightstand before he recognized the voice.  He glared up at a corner of his room.  "One of these days, I'm not going to recognize you when you sneak up on me like that."

"Promises, promises."  Peter came down off the ceiling and settled for a perch on the wall, facing his friend.  "You going to tell me what that whole mess was all about?"

"Don't tell me you haven't figured it out."

"I'm in serious need of exposition."

Stephen groaned and collapsed back onto the bed.  "O.K., Kingpin kidnapped Harry Vincent's family to force him to turn traitor and betray me…"

"I'm not talking about that.  That's the stuff I already know."  He crawled back onto the ceiling and looked straight down at Stephen.

"Don't you ever get a sinus headache from hanging upside down like that?"

"You get used to it.  Now quit stalling.  Tell me what's really going on.  Tell me why you didn't trust me enough to let me help you out."

Stephen looked away.  "The note said come alone."

"So?  I know you're obsessive-compulsive about rules and everything, but did it occur to you that I'm your PARTNER and this is my mission, too?  Did it even occur to you that I'm one of your agents and I owe you my life and that means it's yours?"

"I know that."  The answer was sharp and hard-edged.

That edge usually meant it was time to back off.  But this time, Peter wasn't going to be so accommodating.  "Tell me the truth.  What is it that you feel this need to go off on your own so often?  I'm your partner and you're mine.  I'd give my life for you, just like you'd do for me.  Why this compulsion to act alone?"

Stephen was angry at being challenged.  No one challenged The Shadow like this.  No one…except one person, long ago…

"You're thinking out loud again."

Stephen gave a wry smile.  "Cranston family trait."

"Yeah, I know.  Who was it?"

Stephen looked away.  "Remember the other day when you mentioned that protecting each other is a big part of an agent's mission?"

"Yeah."

"Believe me, I know that.  I know that better than anyone could."

"Or should."

Another wry smile.  "You're very perceptive."  He sat up and reclined against the headboard.  "My grandfather was a hard act to follow.  His older son learned that firsthand.  His younger son didn't even try."

"His younger son.  Your father."

Stephen nodded.  "Alexander Cranston wanted no part of actually being The Shadow.  But he was fiercely loyal to his brother.  And like a lot of people, he owed his life to him.  So he became The Shadow's right-hand man."

"He became Harry Vincent."

Stephen looked away again.  "You're more right than you know."  He forced himself to look up again.  "They made a great team, my dad and my uncle.  Between the two of them, they were virtually invincible.  My uncle trained him to be almost as stealthy and as shadowy as he was.  Better yet, my dad found himself a great woman with a telepathic mind and a thirst for adventure, and soon they were a trio."

"And a quartet."

"Yeah."  Stephen grew quiet again, then found the strength to continue.  "My mom retired from the agent game when I was born.  And my dad started to ease out after a while.  That was O.K.; The Shadow had an army of agents who would gladly give their lives for him."

"Including your dad."

Stephen nodded.

"How?"

Stephen took a deep breath.  "A low-life crime boss.  Wanted to be a higher-life crime boss.  Wanted to control the city.  But he couldn't while The Shadow was in the way.  So he had a man tailing The Shadow.  And one night, he saw my father meeting with him in a darkened alley."  He shivered.  "A rare moment when both of them let their guards down.  And it was all Otto Stankowicz needed."

"He kidnapped your mom."

"And me."  He forced himself to stay calm.  "I was five.  Not much younger than little H.J. Vincent.  My dad saw his wife and son held at gunpoint and was told that if he didn't tell them where they could find The Shadow, they'd kill his family."

Now Peter understood the reason this betrayal stung so badly.  "But he didn't give your uncle up."

"No.  In fact, he threw himself at the men holding his family.  They shot him in half."  He clenched and unclenched his fist.  "My mother, God rest her soul, did the only thing a woman could do when she'd just watched her husband gunned down brutally before her very eyes.  She jumped one of the men, took his gun, and shot two of the thugs before they finally got her.  And then, there was just me."

"And your shadow."

Stephen nodded.  "To this day, I have no idea where he came from.  But he swept in, cleaned house, and snapped Stankowicz's neck right before he could grab me and steal me away."  He looked at his ring.  "And that's how I became an agent at the age of five.  Of course, I didn't actually do anything agent-like until later.  But by then, I didn't want to be an agent.  I wanted to be The Shadow.  And my uncle was more than willing to teach me.  I was his right-hand man for a while.  And then, he became mine.  And then he retired, and I was on my own.  That was five years ago."  He sat up straight and looked up at his friend.  "So if I'm still a little rusty on the intricacies of partnership, it's not because of you."

"Yes, it is.  Because on some level, you wonder whether I'd be willing to throw myself in front of a gunman to protect you."

"Or vice versa."

Peter laughed.  "You know, that's one thing I've never doubted.  If it came down to it, you'd give your life for mine.  I trust that like I trust the sun to come up in the morning.  But maybe I haven't done enough to assure you likewise.  So let's get one thing straight."  He stood up on the ceiling and was now eye-to-upside-down-eye with his partner.  "I'm never going to betray you.  I'm never going to let you down.  And I'm sure never going to let you get killed.  Count on that."

Stephen looked at Peter for a moment, then started chuckling.  "You really do look ridiculous like that."

"I feel ridiculous."  Peter gave a smile.  "Buy you dinner somewhere?"

Stephen collapsed his head onto the headboard again.  "I'm exhausted."

"Fine.  I'll order pizza."

Stephen laughed out loud.  "Bad for the digestion."

"What?"

"Never mind."  He tossed the cordless phone to his friend.  "Start dialling."

THE END


End file.
